


Advice For The Lovelorn

by Soraya (soraya2004), soraya2004



Category: Babylon 5, Babylon 5: Legend of the Rangers
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-30
Updated: 2004-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-14 19:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soraya2004/pseuds/Soraya, https://archiveofourown.org/users/soraya2004/pseuds/soraya2004
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Ranger needs some advice on his love life</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advice For The Lovelorn

On a ship with a track record like the Liandra's, moments of downtime were rare. So, a day like this, with no imminent disasters and no pressing missions, was the perfect opportunity to meditate and seek spiritual calm. Yet, despite having all the necessary ingredients, David found himself unable to achieve that serene state. Nonetheless, he remained on his knees, continuing with his own brand of quiet contemplation. But, it was a troubled silence, one that was filled with the sort of brooding tension only caused by personal demons.

In the solitude of his quarters, there was little to divert him from thoughts of potential gain and what, potentially, he stood to lose if his assertions were even slightly off-track. This was a new kind of dilemma for him, one so different from the usual challenges he faced, where his natural flair for the unconventional gave him an advantage over the more traditional Anla'Shok, who fought alongside him. No, here, David was fairly certain there was little to distinguish him from any other love-sick fool in the universe. Nothing that he could see, at any rate. And that left him feeling dangerously adrift, without anchor or any other means with which to steer.

The irony of the whole situation was that the person he would normally rely upon to guide him was precisely *the* one person he did not want to discuss this with. Which, in itself created a new set of problems. Dulann could sense something was bothering him, but not what exactly. All this left him with the constant headache of trying to shield his feelings from a telepath, albeit a minor one, but one who was so keenly attuned his emotions, his needs, his wants.

David pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning so loudly he was sure they could hear him on the bridge.

So much for spiritual enlightenment! Now, with his thoughts full of Dulann and needs and desires, it was even less likely that he would find any peace of mind.

The weight of such failure made getting to his feet all the more difficult. It wasn't the first time he'd gone down this road, turning this particular problem over in his mind only to arrive at the same impasse of his own doubts. But, increasingly, such thoughts occupied all his waking hours, and uncontrolled, that level of distraction would start to affect his command effectiveness.

In a sudden flash of insight, it occurred to him that he was approaching this the wrong way. There was an alternative to silent introspection - he really wasn't the type for that anyway - and, whilst talking to someone wasn't the ideal solution, anything was better than slowly driving himself crazy.

Before he could change his mind, David rushed to his desk, and then he opened a secure channel to Minbar.

***

In the time it took to establish the connection, David had moved from his desk to his kitchenette then back again more than five times, in what he told himself was quite definitely was not pacing. He was simply walking off stiffness from close an hour spent on his knees. So, that was how the recipient of his call found him: mid-stride, at the end of his sixth round of 'not pacing'.

"Hello, Marcus."

"David! What a pleasant surprise!"

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," David added.

"No, no it's fine. Though, I could ask you the same thing!"

David gave a self-conscious little laugh, before sitting down in front of the viewer, doing his best not to fidget. "How is life on Minbar?"

But Marcus, in his typical direct fashion, brushed aside his half- hearted attempts at small talk. "What's going on, David? You look terrible."

That assessment convinced David that speaking to someone was the right thing to do, though, part of him felt ridiculous for running to his old mentor with such a private matter. "I need some advice. I . . . it's personal," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.

"Does this have something to do with Dulann?" Marcus asked. By then, he had settled on the floor, having slipped into his favoured lotus position.

A sight, which David found more reassuring than any platitudes might have been. Yet, even with that obvious opening, and the encouraging glances Marcus kept throwing his way, he really didn't know how to begin.

Inevitably, Marcus ran out of patience. "Okay, let me guess: you're head-over-heels in love with a certain Minbari Anla'Shok, who just happens to be your best friend. You want to be near him all the time, yet you're terrified he'll sense how you feel. Most of all, you're worried that if he does find out, it could somehow ruin your friendship."

By the end of that speech, David felt ridiculously grateful that he was already sitting down. "How did you know?" he gasped.

"Oh, for God's sake, David, *everyone* knows!"

And there it was: the verbal slap to the head Marcus was so skilled at delivering. But, even more shocking was the revelation that emotions he'd thought were so carefully hidden had in fact been on public display for months—years even—without his knowledge.

David sank back in his chair, trying to stay calm. Surely it wasn't as bad as Marcus seemed to imply? From the slightly pitying expression on Marcus's face, he got the impression he wouldn't like the answer to that question.

"Perhaps now would be a good time to mention you stare at him when you think no one is looking?"

That bad, apparently.

And, Marcus, like any concerned friend, seemed determined to point out all his moments of lovesick stupidity. "A word of advice: drooling is a dead give-away. Then, there's the way you touch him all the time, in ways that really cross the boundaries of propriety and friendship for Minbari. Even Neroon commented on it at the last—"

"Wait a minute!" David raised a hand to stop him mid flow, heart pounding because the last thing he needed was the entire Warrior caste interfering in his love life. "Please tell me you didn't tell that over-bearing husband of yours!"

However, before Marcus could say anything, a deep and familiar voice answered: "He did not need to tell me. I was more than capable of, how do you humans say, 'figuring it out for myself'."

"Shai'Alyt Neroon," David said in a low voice. He couldn't decide whether to hide, cry, or just make a run for it.

"Shok'Na Martel." Neroon returned his greeting, equally formal, before sitting down behind Marcus, effectively destroying any hope David might have had of finishing the conversation with his dignity in tact.

"It's a pleasure to see you again," he added, because it seemed like the diplomatic thing to say. Though, from the slight curl of Neroon's mouth, he got the feeling that hadn't sounded nearly as sincere as it should have. Neroon, however, didn't seem at all upset by this. In fact, David had the horrible suspicion the Minbari was laughing at him.

"Oh, I'm sure it is," Neroon replied dryly. He drew Marcus close to him, wrapping both arms around Marcus's waist, before propping his chin on a conveniently heighted shoulder. No doubt, David thought, so he could smirk more directly into the viewer.

This was one of the reasons for his earlier anxiety. As much as he liked and trusted Marcus, with Marcus came Neroon: the one Minbari who epitomised the words smug, irritating and arrogant in equal amounts. Little wonder Marcus had tried to beat the crap out of him within two seconds of meeting him. Only, then he'd had to go and ruin it all by falling in love with the warrior about ten minutes after that!

"So," Neroon continued in a soft tone. "Finally, you acknowledge the feelings you have for your favourite Tha'Domo."

The gleam in those dark eyes made the hair on the back of David's neck stand on end. Ever since Neroon had married a human, having lost his disdain for the race in general, he seemed to take perverse delight in tormenting any human unfortunate enough to cross his path—which usually meant Marcus's close friends. "That's right," David replied, wary.

Neroon seemed to study him for a long time. "It is good that you have decided to court him. Frankly, I grow tired of watching you trail after your Shok'Na'Li like some helpless niall'gok."

"I do *not* trail after him!" David denied hotly. His face went even redder when Marcus, instead of backing up a fellow Ranger, buried his face in Neroon's throat, shoulders shaking suspiciously. "Marcus, please!" Dropping his head in his hands, he realised he would have to let the kitten remark slide because he just didn't have a response.

"Forgive me, David. I would never make fun of you, not about something like this."

David heard a soft hiccup and he looked up to find his friend wiping his eyes on his sleeve, looking slightly red-faced but nonetheless contrite. Even Neroon, who never apologised for anything, seemed a little dismayed at the thought of having offended him.

"Nor would I," Neroon added, forehead furrowed in confusion. "I only seek to understand why you delay. We live in uncertain times, David. There is nothing to be gained by watching the years pass you by, while you pine for the one you love. Believe me, this I know."

Neroon held Marcus close to him as he spoke, and David could see the strength of their bond, which reflected all they'd had to overcome to be together. It made his heart ache with loneliness to see them like that, knowing that was what he wanted for himself with Dulann. In a rare moment of vulnerability, David found himself opening up to them. "I'm scared," he admitted in a low voice. "Scared I'll ruin what little I have by asking for more, that he doesn't feel the same way I do . . .."

Neroon chuckled, but his laughter was far from mocking. "Rest assured, Dulann's heart beats for yours alone. This is clear to all that know him. You need to show him your heart, you will not regret taking that step."

The warm sincerity behind those words touched David deeply. It gave him courage to hear that perhaps he did stand a chance. "Thank-you, Neroon. I guess I needed to hear that."

Neroon bowed his head, obviously pleased. "Now, I will leave you with my mala to get the advice you came for on how to seduce a Minbari!"

It was like inheriting with an incredibly annoying older sibling, David thought, furious at being so easily caught out. Naturally, Marcus didn't see things that way. No, as far as he could tell Marcus was practically glowing with admiration for his husband, because in *his* eyes, Neroon was the fourth wonder of the universe.

"I knew you would be perfect to help him," Marcus said, shifting to the side so he could see Neroon's face.

David wondered if *this* was how he stared at Dulann, when he thought no one was watching, with this expression of such hopeless adoration. And given the way Neroon tenderly ran his fingers down Marcus's cheek, those feelings of devotion were mutual. "As always, Zha'Aia, I am honoured by your faith in me."

Marcus pressed a gentle kiss into Neroon's palm. "I'll see you later," he promised.

"Yes, my Marcus. When you have finished speaking with David here, know that I'll be waiting for you . . .." Neroon whispered the last part of his message into Marcus's ear, and David watched in dismay as Marcus's breathing grew ragged and his eyes drifted shut.

Great. Just perfect.

Experience told him Marcus now had about forty seconds of coherent conversation left in him, thanks to that over-sexed Minbari. David snapped his fingers in front of the viewer, demanding: "Marcus, come on! Focus!"

And for one glorious moment, it seemed to be working. Until, Neroon struck again, gently gathering the fall of Marcus's hair to one side, before pressing a series of soft, lingering kisses to his throat, his jaw, and the skin beneath his ear. Then, all of a sudden, Neroon reared back, looking himself a bit flustered as he quickly moved out of sight, leaving Marcus sitting there, a complete and total wreck.

"Marcus." David sighed, not surprised when he got no response. As he took in the flushed man on-screen, who was obviously trying very hard to catch his breath, he resigned himself to the fact that, despite trying meditation and friends' advice, he would get no solutions from either this day. "Marcus," he said again, in a much louder voice.

"What?"

"Go!"

Marcus bit his lower lip, looking very guilty. "I'll call you later, okay?"

David just waved him away. He was amused at the speed with which the screen went black, and he knew that if Marcus did remember to call, it would be a hell of a lot later. And, no, he really didn't want to think about what Marcus and Neroon would be doing in that time.

As he got to his feet, David focused instead on the little insight Neroon had given him, and what he was going to do about it.

***

David had just unwrapped the final piece of tea-root when his door chimed. In retrospect, he was surprised it had taken so long for this visit to happen. Part of him had expected Dulann to come charging to his rescue during that traumatic conversation with Marcus. But, perhaps it was a blessing that no one else had been witness to that particular humiliation.

Calling out permission to enter, David dipped the gnarly-looking root pieces in water, before laying them out, one by one, on the kitchenette table. He didn't look up as the familiar sounding gait drew closer, trying instead to concentrate on the intricate task of preparing the Minbari tea.

"David."

"Dulann," David answered him. He closed his eyes briefly, basking in a presence that simultaneously soothed his soul and threw the rest of his vital signs into complete disarray. Marcus had been right: it was so obvious now that he knew what to look for. Even the way he said Dulann's name, imbuing it with all the longing and affection he felt gave him away.

He took a deep breath to steady himself when Dulann stepped close, peering over his shoulder at the bowl of steaming water and the distinctive, sweet spices laid out in front of him.

"You are making Sha'lirla."

"I was expecting you," he quipped, glancing at his friend sideways. Much to his amusement, Dulann looked a little embarrassed.

"I did sense some turmoil in you earlier."

"So, of course, you came to check up on me!" David nudged Dulann gently with his shoulder, letting him know he wasn't angry. "I was speaking to Marcus," he continued, reaching for a knife. Dulann handed him one of the root pieces, which he then held over a small pot and started to scrape off the bark. "Then, Shai Alyt Neroon showed up," he added wryly.

"Ah."

As expected, Dulann didn't comment further, though there was a definite smirk on his face. Just what was it with Minbari and the smirking? Shaking his head, David carefully placed the root back in the steaming water, before picking up a second piece, only to start the process again.

When Dulann had first introduced him to this brand of tea, he'd made it seem as though it was some new delicacy for him to try. So, David had gone along with it, completely unaware of its significance; he'd simply thought the tea was a favourite of Dulann's. And, over the years, he lost count of the number of times Dulann made Sha'lirla for him.

Only recently had he come to understand the symbolism behind that act. Sha'lirla took great patience to prepare. Too long on the boil, and it became thick and sickly sweet like caramel; too short, and it was thin and bitter. So, because of the care required, it was typically only prepared by a parent, a lover, a spouse—anyone, who wished to show a person was cherished beyond measure. And this discovery first gave him hope Dulann's feelings for him might run deeper than friendship.

David sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was *not* starting that discussion with himself again, especially with Dulann watching him so closely.

"David, what is it?" Dulann probed gently. "I know you would not contact Marcus unless the situation was serious."

Sometimes, his friends knew him a little too well. "It's nothing serious exactly. I just needed some personal advice," David said.

"I see."

And, as soon as those words left his mouth, he realised he'd said the wrong thing. "Dulann, no!" David dropped the knife, then turned to face Dulann. "It's not that I couldn't come to you. I just needed to get a second opinion. And . . .."

"And, what?" Dulann pressed.

"And, I didn't think it was fair to burden you with this. I didn't know if—that you might—" David trailed off again, his shoulders slumped.

Dulann stepped even closer, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I am your friend; nothing you could ever ask of me would be a burden." Then, that hand trailed down to his chest, resting warm and steady over his heart. "David, nu'fa'an nie se schlect de'sher."

"A'fa'an, Dulann, A'fa'an," David said quietly. He covered Dulann's hand with his own, before slowly raising that hand to his mouth, giving Dulann ample opportunity to stop him, all the time watching those wide, rapidly blinking blue eyes for any negative reaction.

And, when Dulann showed no signs of pulling away, David brushed his lips across Dulann's knuckles, quietly signalling that his needs were for more than friendship. He heard Dulann made a sound then, something low and rough, and wanting to hear it again, David let his lips move further down until he was kissing the skin at Dulann's wrist.

That kiss seemed to destroy what was left of Dulann's passivity, and suddenly David found himself pinned against the table. A surge of heat curled through his stomach when Dulann's thumb stroked slowly across his lower lip, making him moan and arch back into the hand gently cupping his nape. The hunger in Dulann's eyes set him on fire, and David watched Dulann watch him, aware that Dulann was not only reading his emotions but that he was also cataloguing his responses to each touch, learning him slowly and very deliberately.

For a long time, the only sounds in the room were of their ragged breaths, and the subtle slide of skin on skin. David wrapped his arms round Dulann's waist, acknowledging this change in their relationship and adjusting to it, knowing Dulann was doing the same. He was reluctant to disturb this new awareness growing between them, but eventually, he had give voice to his deeper needs.

"When we reach Minbar, I plan to visit your parents to ask for their blessing to court you and for the Raha'sum Minsa'fel." Slowly, he rubbed his cheek against Dulann's, loving the feel of that smooth skin against his own and the way Dulann automatically pulled him closer. "With your permission, of course," he added in a soft voice.

"You have it."

David let out the breath he'd been holding. "Thank-you."

"Did you doubt I would give it?" Dulann asked, surprised.

"I hoped you would," David found himself admitting. He drew back slightly, searching those wide blue eyes with his own. "I couldn't be sure without asking, but I hoped."

"Then, let me show you my heart, David, so you never need exist on hope again."

As Dulann brought their foreheads together, David felt something glow inside him, growing in strength as it swept through his body. He saw the shape of it in his mind, felt the words take root deep in his heart, even as Dulann whispered them to him.

"A'fel'E, de'sher," David said, repeating those words back to Dulann. He realised what he'd sensed was just a just a small trace of the emotion Dulann had for him, that it had always been there, from the moment they'd met.

Smiling, David dragged his attention back to the kitchenette table, where he continued the painstaking process of preparing Dulann's favourite tea.

  
The End

***

Minbari words and phrases are from the B5 dictionary at <http://www.jumpnow.de/dic/index.php>:

Shok'Na = Captain (Anla'Shok specific, equivalent to Alyt)  
Shok'Na'Li = First Officer  
Mala = Husband  
Zha'Aia = One Heart (an endearment similar to Sweetheart)  
A'fa'an = I know  
A'fel'E = I love you  
De'Sher = Forever  
Niall'Gok = Kitten (literal translation: 'small cat')  
Tha'Domo = Fighting Monk (a sub-clan of the Religious caste that, in the past, accompanied Warriors into battle)

Nu'fa'an nie se schlect de'sher = No matter what, I will always be your friend (literal translation: 'You know I am your friend forever')

Raha'sum Minsa'fel = formal request to join a family (usually made when marriage between castes is contemplated)

"Sha'lirla" is a made up word = a type of sweet beverage favoured by the Religious caste


End file.
